


Come in for Coffee

by Maeve_of_Winter



Category: Baby-Sitters Club - Ann M. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, F/M, First Dates, First Time, Friends to Lovers, Single Parents, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-16 04:45:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13628853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maeve_of_Winter/pseuds/Maeve_of_Winter
Summary: Newly divorced Maureen McGill moves to Stoneybrook with her daughter, and Richard finds himself taking an interest.





	Come in for Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * For [DesertVixen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DesertVixen/gifts).



It wasn’t until Maureen showed up his house to return a cake dish that Richard realized he’d never actually got around to meeting either Mary Anne’s new friend Stacey or her mother. He couldn’t help but feel slightly guilty for it, wondering what it said about his proactivity as a parent. He’d become lazy, he supposed, with Mary Anne’s two closest friends, Claudia and Kirsty, living right alongside them in Bradford Court.

He answered the door of his home to find an attractive blonde woman holding a familiar dessert plate. It had been one of Alma’s, white with red flowers.

“Hello,” the woman said, wearing a cheerful smile that went well with her blue eyes. “I don’t mean to pop by unannounced, but I was dropping off some purchases from Bellair’s for Elizabeth, and I decided I would return your plate to you while I was here.”

“Thank you,” Richard responded mildly, racking his brain for who this woman might be. Mary Anne had said she was using a plate to bake a cake for a new friend of hers, hadn’t she? But he couldn’t recall any name.

At a loss to remember, he accepted the plate with one hand and offered her the other to shake. “I’m Richard Spier. But you already seem to know that.”

Picking up on his uncertainty but gracefully not calling attention to it, she accepted his hand. “I’m Maureen McGill. My daughter, Stacey, is part of the Baby-sitters’ Club with your Mary Anne.”

Right, Stacey was the girl from New York. With how often Mary Anne talked about her, amazement in her voice every time (“She lived in Manhattan, and she’s been to the Met! Both Mets, Dad!”), Richard didn’t know how he could have forgotten. Wanting to both impress and welcome her new friend, Mary Anne had slaved over making a cake for Stacey. After pouring through books and magazines until she’d found a recipe that was safe for a diabetic to eat, she’d then carefully measured out each ingredient, double-checking to make sure the amount was precise, determined that this attempt at cooking wouldn’t go wrong as so many of her others had.

Making the split second decision to amend for his previous lax parenting, Richard invited Maureen inside. “Would you like to have a cup of coffee with me? I was just about to sit down, and I realize I haven’t had a chance to welcome you to Stoneybrook yet.”

Maureen favored him with a smile. “Thank you. I will.”

They had a nice visit. Maureen briefly mentioned she and her daughter had arrived in Stoneybrook after she separated from her husband, who remained in New York City. Now, she was working at as a manager in the local Bellair’s department store.

The chat concluded when Maureen excused herself to go home, thanking him for his hospitality. She also invited Mary Anne to their house for a sleepover the next week.

“Stacey’s having all of the baby-sitters over,” Maureen said fondly. “Mary Anne is welcome, of course.”

“As long as you’re willing to handle an evening of her peppering you with questions about New York City,” Richard replied with a smile.

* * *

 

As it happened, he was the one to pick up Claudia and Kristy alongside Mary Anne and bring them back to Bradford Court on the morning after the sleepover. Maureen met him at the door and insisted he come inside for some breakfast, refusing to hear any of his demurrals.

“You were a good host to me, so it’s only right that I return the favor,” she told him, bringing him into a cheerful, sunny kitchen. “And we’ll have the room to ourselves. The girls are eating outside on the patio. Stacey has been regaling them with tales of dining  _ el fresco _ . They all think it’s very sophisticated.”

“I might have to look into buying some lawn furniture, then, knowing Mary Anne,” Richard commented dryly as he pulled up a chair. 

Maureen laughed. “She’s a lovely girl. Very enthusiastic. She just amazed when she found out I worked at Bellair’s—she said she’d never met anyone who’d worked ‘in fashion’ before.”

Richard gave a chuckle of his own. He could just picture Mary Anne starry-eyed and gazing at Maureen in awe, thrilled about her first encounter with a figure cultured in the fashion world.

“Thank you,” he replied graciously. “And thank you for having her. And me.”

“It’s no problem,” Maureen assured him. “Stop by anytime, either of you. No need to be strangers.”

The girls traipsed inside then, and Richard finally met Stacey, who was a younger version of her mother, albeit with a fluffy perm. She dressed much differently than Mary Anne, wearing a metallic skirt over lacy leggings, an off-the-shoulder shirt with various French phrases printed across it, and a pair of those girls’ shoes that weren’t either slippers or sandals (jellers?). Colorful plastic bracelets lined her wrists, and silver charms shaped like miniature Eiffel towers dangled at her ears.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Spier,” she said confidently, offering him a handshake with more charisma than he’d ever seen in a twelve-year-old. “Mary Anne told me you go on business trips to New York sometimes. Is that right?”

“I go into the city occasionally,” Richard replied, bemused.

“Well, you may not have heard, but I’m a New York native,” Stacey announced. “If you ever need tips on how to get around the city, just let me know.”

Maureen stood and busied herself at the stove to cover any laughter, and Richard had to bite down on his lip to hold in his amusement.

“Thank you, Stacey,” he managed politely. “I certainly appreciate the offer. It’s very generous of you.” 

When Stacey turned back to her friends, he and Maureen exchanged a clandestine smile, and Richard was suddenly struck by how good it felt to have a joke to share with someone else, with Maureen.

Then He helped the other three girls load their sleeping bags into the car and departed, but not without a promise to Maureen to stop by again soon. And, somewhat to his surprise, he found himself doing so.

It became something of a standing invitation between the two of them, dropping in for coffee whenever one of them gave the other’s daughter a ride. A camaraderie quickly developed between himself and Maureen, and Richard was grateful—not only was it comforting to be familiar with the family of Mary Anne’s close friends, but there a strong sense of friendliness, of genuity, to Maureen that he couldn’t help but be drawn toward. He felt lighter when he looked at her, felt more relaxed around her.

When Mary Anne begged him to let her take her hair out of her braids and start wearing different clothes (“Please, Dad? I feel so babyish next to Claudia and Stacey.”), Richard only hesitated briefly before asking Maureen for assistance.

“I don’t mean to impose, but could you, perhaps, help her pick out some new outfits?” he asked only somewhat awkwardly. “I’ve always thought she dressed nicely, but she thinks her clothes are too plain. And I thought since she’s hitting a growth spurt anyway, maybe you could help her find some new things at Bellair’s.” 

“I’d be happy to,” Maureen said warmly. “I can take her shopping with Stacey and I this weekend, if you like.”  

“Thank you,” Richard answered, relieved. He was determined not to take it personally that Mary Anne now considered the sweaters he’d always picked out for her to be “stale” and “boring,” but he’d been at a loss of how to help her himself. “If there’s any way I can return the favor—” 

“I’ll let you know,” Maureen finished for him. “But don’t worry. I’m happy to help.”

On Saturday morning, Maureen and Stacey whisked an ecstatic Mary Anne off for their shopping trip. They worked their magic and returned her with bags that overflowed with stonewashed denim and pastel-colored leg-warmers. In spite of being thrilled with her new clothes, Mary Anne seemed even more happy with her company for the day.

“Mrs. McGill and Stacey were both so nice!” she enthused, rifling through her pile of purchases to show him yet another item. “I’ve never had anyone do that for me—just spend an afternoon giving me fashion advice and telling which clothes look good. I’m glad I have someone to tell me now,” she added fervently. “Think of all the mistakes I could make.” 

As always, Richard’s heart twisted at the reminder that Mary Anne didn’t have a mother to enjoy those moments with, to take her shopping and help her select new clothes. He tried his best, but he was just one parent as opposed to one of two, and, as he’d discovered recently, his own ideas about what was fashionable for a middle school girl were slightly outdated.

Accustomed to the brief but sharp ache of grief as he was, he settled for covering his momentary sadness with a compliment. “You look beautiful in anything.”

Mary Anne laughed. “That’s what all parents say. Claudia says her mom and dad tell her the same thing whenever she asks for money to buy new clothes. Speaking of the Kishis, do you mind if I run over to their house for a little while?”

Richard glanced at the clock. “Claudia will still be at her tutor’s,” he reminded her.

Mary Anne nodded. “I know. I want to show Mimi.”

Richard smiled. “Go ahead.”

* * *

A week later, Maureen called him up on the phone. “I’ve figured out how you can repay me for your favor. I’ve been dying to try that Rosebud Cafe that just opened up downtown. We can go Dutch on the bill, but it would be nice to have someone there with me to enjoy the atmosphere.”

“Sure,” Richard answered, feeling proud of his own spontaneity. Since he realized the effect of his strictness on Mary Anne, he’d been trying to relax just a bit. “I don’t think Mary Anne has any sitting jobs for this Friday. Would that work for Stacey and you?”

There was a brief pause before Maureen spoke again, her voice hesitant. “Actually, Stacey is going to be spending the weekend with her father. I thought that you and I could go to dinner alone, but if you’d like for Mary Anne—”

“No, no, that’s all right,” Richard rushed to reassure her as her meaning dawned him. She wanted a private dinner for the two of them. “I can pick you up. How about seven?”

“Seven sounds lovely,” Maureen agreed. “I look forward to it.”

“So do I,” Richard found himself replying reflexively, but when he hung up the phone, he realized that it was true. 

He never would have invited Maureen out to dinner on his own, he knew—it was unlikely to have occurred to him at all, and if it had, he wouldn’t have wanted to create any awkwardness between Mary Anne and Stacey. With Maureen making the first move, he realized that he wasn’t opposed to a date with her.

_ A date. _ It felt strange, but certainly not bad, to think that the friendship between himself and Maureen had ended up going in that direction.

Richard couldn’t deny a sliver of nervousness when he drove over to Maureen’s house on Friday night as scheduled, wondering what the evening held. But he firmly refused to allow himself to worry; no matter what happened, he told himself sternly, he would focus on the future and live in the now, not stress himself by fretting over every possible outcome.

He strolled up the front walkway, taking it as a good sign that Maureen opened the front door and slipped out to come and meet him halfway. When Richard saw her outfit, he couldn’t help but smile, knowing it was one Mary Anne would probably adore. Maureen looked smart and collected in a red dress with dual rows of chunky black buttons running up the front. The hemline ended before her knees and combined with a white denim jacket and a pair of white cowboy boots, she gave off an air of playfulness. Seeing her more casual attire, he was glad he decided to avoid anything overly formal and simply wear a button-down and khakis.

“You look lovely,” he said, and then, wondering if he was coming too strong, quickly added, “I like your boots.”

Maureen chuckled, momentarily stretching out a leg to look down at them. “They really make an outfit, don’t they? I think they add a lot of pizzazz.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Richard admitted. “No doubt you heard it from Mary Anne, but my taste in clothing tends to run a bit old-fashioned.”

“No matter,” Maureen said affectionately. “Retro will always be in style, and,” her blue eyes sparkled, “there’s nothing wrong with keeping the classics.”

Richard relaxed somewhat then, reassured the night’s interactions would be just as natural and casual as their others had been. And it was. Throughout the evening, they maintained their same dynamic, the same friendliness, and the same easy conversation, just in a different setting. He was relieved for it. He thoroughly enjoyed spending time with Maureen no matter where they were, and it was good to see she reciprocated his sentiments. 

Yet at the end of the night when Richard let her off at her house, he wasn’t entirely sure what he should say. 

“I had a nice time,” he told her sincerely, but the statement felt incomplete, overly diplomatic. “I wouldn’t mind doing this again sometime,” he tacked on, which made for a slight improvement.

“Me, neither,” Maureen replied, tilting her head as she looked at him. “In fact, I don’t know that I’m ready for the night to be over just yet.”

Richard was caught by surprise. “Oh?”

“Would you like to come in?” she asked, with just a hint of coyness to her smile. “For a cup of coffee? We have the house to ourselves, after all.”

A rare grin tugged up Richard’s lips, and he nodded, a prickle of excitement tingling his spine. “I’d like that.”

He parked the car, and they walked toward the house side by side. And while it wasn’t the first time he’d been to the house, Richard couldn’t help but notice that Maureen made a point of taking his hand as she led him inside.


End file.
